The Hermione Gothic Challenge

Chapter One

Hermione scowled at the bustling station, her dark lined eyes throwing not only daggers, but ninja stars and jack knives as well. She didn't want to be here, hell she didn't even HAVE to be here. But her damned pride wouldn't let her back down. Those bastards had pushed it for the last time and they were going to get a healthy ration of Gryffindor fury. Scratch that, they were going to get a ration of Hermione Granger fury. She was a Gryffindor anymore; she would no longer be affiliated with those assholes.

"Think they're so high and mighty," she grumbled "no better than those Slytherin scum." She hoisted her trunk off the trolley and threw it as hard as she could up and into the luggage car. Hermione heard an aggravated yelp as a familiar red heard peered around the corner.

"Blimey, Hermione! What happened to you?" Hermione growled low in her throat. Typical, arrogant Gryffindor ass.

"You happened to me asswipe! You and your idiot friend! Call me a worthless piece of trash will you!" She whipped out her wand and pointed it at his face, fuming. "After all I did for you, after all these years, you're willing to toss me to the wayside!" She levitated Ron up and out of the car, then flicked her wrist and threw him to the side, smacking him against the brick wall. There were several scattered cheers, mostly from the Slytherin group, but Hermione grinned wickedly all the same.

She turned and sauntered into the train, taking an empty compartment for herself and locking the door. Throwing her bag and setting her guitar case into the opposite seat, she gazed out the window, or rather; she gazed at her own reflection in the window. Her hair was dyed black and very straight, her eyes were lined with black eyeliner and there was a semicircle piercing through her eyebrow, topped with a black star on either end. There was another piercing through her lower lip, directly down the middle. She wore baggy black denim pant with strap wrapped around the back, as well as multiple chains on her hip. Her top was a snug fitting My Chemical Romance T-Shirt, underneath a Nightmare Before Christmas track jacket. She wore several different necklaces, including a skull and crossbones guitar pick, Jack Skellington and a spiked dog collar complete with a tag that read "Hermione Granger, Bitch and Proud."

At first, when Harry and Ron had rejected her, she had been depressed, crying and moping, then she met Kelly, who taught her that there was nothing wrong with her, but with them. If they weren't such idiots, they would have noticed what a cool person she was. Kelly was the one who had urged her to try new things, to loosen up. Hermione was still slightly conservative for the scene she now considered part of: she never drank or did drugs. But she had gotten a tattoo the day she turned sixteen, a pair of enormous butterfly wings on her back as well as a black serpent wrapped around her upper thigh, although no one had seen that one yet. Although Kelly had learned of Hermione's abilities in witchcraft, she had still remained her friend and they owled each other back and forth constantly. She was a better friend in those two months than Ron and Harry had been over five years.

Hermione lifted her guitar from its case, stroking its smooth curves lovingly. It was a Candy Apple Red Fender Stratocaster that she loved more than almost anything, except maybe Kelly. Her parents had long fallen off the list when they started fighting over Hermione, then blaming it on her.

"It's your fault we're fighting, are you happy now!" That was their favorite line. Hermione started to strum the guitar, picking up in the middle of My Chemical Romance's "Helena." Suddenly a bang on the door caused her to play a bad chord and she cursed.

"What the hell do you want!" A voice drifted through the other side of the door.

"I need somewhere to sit, now open the door!" Hermione raised her pierced eyebrow, that voice was familiar. She flicked her wand and the door clicked open,

"Enter." The door slid open to reveal none other than Draco Malfoy, who, Hermione had to admit, was looking supremely sexy this morning. "May I help you?"

"I need somewhere to sit. All the other cars are taken." Hermione glanced at him, he was smirking in a confident, I-know-you'll-say-yes-because-I-am-a-sex-god way that turned Hermione completely off. She smiled sweetly.

"Sod off." Draco's face contorted in anger.

"You do you think you are bitch?" Hermione bared her teeth.

"I'm Hermione Granger; you prick, so go away and screw Pansy and get Chlamydia, just leave me alone." With another flick of her wand, Draco flew out the door, which was then locked behind him. Hermione then decided that attempting to play her guitar was futile and tucked it lovingly back into its case. She then laid out her coat; black leather lined with red and black faux fur, and stretched out on the seat for a nap.

When Hermione awoke, it was dark and the school was less than an hour away. Hermione threw on the school cloak, and loosely tied the red and gold striped tie around her neck. There, she thought, she was ready. Fishing through her bag, she pulled out a bag of chips and a soda and leaned back for a snack.

When they reached the school, Hermione had finished off the bag of chips and the soda. Gathering up her guitar and bag, she unlocked the door and headed for the horseless carriages.

She stepped into the nearest empty carriage and again placed her things on the opposite seat. This time, whenever someone came to the door, all she had to do was glare, and they would scamper off. Once they entered the school grounds Hermione hoisted her things over her shoulders and headed towards the Gryffindor dormitories, not bothering to go the Great Hall. The Sorting was the same every year: sit, listen to advice that no one will follow, learn the same rules over again, eat, and leave. Hermione began to prepare herself for a really long year.